Names
by Besieged Infection
Summary: AU People call him 'Demyx'. People he knows; people who know him. It was just a name- something others use to identify him. A name. 'Demyx' didn't think names were important.


**Names**

**A story by Besieged Infection**

**---**

**Standard disclaimer applies**

---

A slight smile over a smooth facade, quiet eyes set in a angular face, sharp corners in gentle curves; contradictions in and of themselves, working in something a little less than harmony, were around every day. Imperfections draw eyes away from the perfection screaming for attention in the only way it can.

Spikes surrounded by a flat expanse of blonde drew gazes away from the gentle eyes hidden beneath sparse bangs. From their beneath hair that seemed too wild to belong on a teenager, yet not wild enough for this particular teen to be satisfied, they glared out at those around him. This 'him'; who is he? Sweet blue eyes, soft tanned skin, calloused fingers- who did they really belong to? Was it a name? A person? The person had a name, but does that really matter?

People call him 'Demyx'. People he knows; people who know him. It was just a name- something others use to identify him. A name.

'Demyx' didn't think names were important.

The lanky teen did a once-over in the mirror; from his black tee to his blue jeans. He slowly looked at the room through the mirror- how the blue walls were lined with sea-shells and ribbons; photos and memories- a light smile ghosting at the corner of his lips. A slender chain slipped around his neck as he fastened it, examining slowly the silver bass clef that sat at the end of the chain as he did every other morning. His hands trailed over the metal ever-so-slowly, sighing as he turned away from the mirror. Tugging his jacket from its position on the back of his desk chair, idly pulling it over his arms, he pulled his bass over his shoulder, leaving the room. Old boards creaked under his sneakers as he made his way down the stairs of his attic bedroom and onto the main floor.

Beige walls, crème carpets, and off-white windowsills were what adorned the rooms of the main floor; he moved through them quietly, paying no heed to the eggshell countertops and ivory floors. The world of whites were quiet, and he idly remembered the words he wished his mother had spoken to him when she had painted the rooms the way she did.

_The world is not pure white, so there's no use pretending we are._

Of course, those words would never come out of _her_ mouth, let alone that of anyone he knew. Instead, she had said something else.

_Isn't this off-white so pretty? Much better than that ugly blue we had up for so long._

He _liked_ the royal blue. Whether that was because he loved the sea or because of his father was not up for discussion.

---

School was nice. There were lots of blues. Destiny high school's traditional colors were, after all, blue and red. Royal blue and crimson, to be exact. However, this could not take away the fact that school _was_ nice. _Was_. Past tense.

Joining his group of friends in the cafeteria, 'Demyx' found himself in a group of tense faces. The tensest of which hidden beneath a mop of red hair that spiked back smoothly in sharp shapes that, possibly, defined the slightly older boy to a fault.

Read: Completely predictable.

His name was 'Axel', though the name didn't mean anything. You aren't your name, after all.

The redhead glared, sharp green eyes trained on a target dining across the cafeteria. A target with ocean-blue eyes, spiky blonde hair, and a mass of black and white so immensely different from the rest of the people in their group that one had to wonder why so many pairs of eyes- twelve to be exact- were looking at the teen with such remorse. 'Demyx' felt a word threaten to jump from the tip of his tongue into the air between him and the boy across the room. The one surrounded by three people his own age as opposed to his group, with ages that weren't considered friendly mixed into a cacophony of something far from perfection, looked on in anger. Each pair of eyes looking upon the boy had a mix of something else- something that made them all fundamentally different. Despair, hatred, expectancy; even a small trace of jealousy. There was one thing the gazes all had in common, though. Anger; as if you anger one of them, you anger all of them. The blue eyed boy, who went by the name of 'Roxas', which does not matter, had once been apart of their group. He thought that no one would feel anything upon his departure.

But Axel did.

The rule was that if you anger one of them, you anger all of them. It was how they survived. Only one pair of eyes were not trained on the boy, opting instead to cleave the pages of that day's book.

'Demyx' turned to him, taking in the boy from his shock of grey hair- prematurely so- to his entirely black attire. The boy wore nothing else- black, black, and more black. An anomaly in and of himself, he could blend in with the group as if he didn't exist. That, by default, meant that everyone knew him. Most of said minority only knew him by name, though. 'Zexion'.

But names, as you already know, do not matter.

On another note, you know how some people have a way with things that surpasses that of others? Just like how some poets have a way with words, and painters a way with a brush, teenagers have a way with a great many things. For one, drama. For two, anger. For three, insolence. For four, belligerence.

Finally, the fifth thing that they are good at is pretending that people they don't like don't exist.

The entirety of Demyx's group consisted of said "people they don't like". This allowed them to do anything they liked, really. Just as long as they don't become liked by the general populace. That was the only rule, basically. Become a friend of the populace and you become an enemy of the "people". Sounds cruel, does it?

It is how they protect each other.

However indirectly.

---

He ran into him that day. The boy in black and white.

Once more, that word seemed to pry at his lips, tearing through his barriers to shout at the boy. The scream that word at him that described him to a fault. Through their eyes, that is. It was a light brush in the halls, and 'Demyx' ignored it as much as he could. That is, until he found himself cornered between the music room and the drama theater. He went there during lunch- he always did.

At that moment he decided to find a new spot.

"How are they?" He asked, sliding into place beside him on the wall. The boy was nearly an entire six inches shorter than him sitting down.

_**"I need your help, tonight. I need to release."**_

"Roxas?"

"How are they?" the boy asked again, eyes fixed on the floor. This he translated to "How's Axel?"

_**"Why do you need my help? I mean, isn't he enough for you?"**_

"They're okay- we miss you, though." This translated to, "He's horrible- he misses you a lot." There was a small silence before he continued. "Roxas, come back to us."

"Drop the act, Demyx," the smaller blonde spat, hand clenched in his pant leg. "We both know you're not like this."

_**"He's enough- **_**more**_** than enough... but tonight I just need it. I- I don't want him to see that side of me. Not yet."**_

"Don't be mad."

Unfortunately, he was. "Stop faking! It's just me- all right?"

_**"You're in love with him, aren't you?"**_

"I think you have the wrong guy."

'Roxas' groaned. "Do you _have_ to be a jerk today?"

_**Silence. That was the only answer the blonde got- the only answer he needed.**_

'Demyx' gasped; an almost forced reaction. "Now that's just plain rude!"

The smaller boy groaned, gritting his teeth in anger. "That's just it." This caught the older boy's attention, drawing blue eyes to the former member of his group. "You all do this."

"Is that why you left?"

_**"If he finds out about this you're dead."**_

"No."

"Why did you leave?"

_**"It's not like we're getting serious. It's just a one-night thing. I need to release, and you're the only one who can stand that right now."**_

"Why do you think?"

"Because I have a brain."

_**"So you don't want to hurt him."**_

"That's not what I mean."

"Then tell me why you left."

_**Silence.**_

'Roxas' was getting a little tired of it all at this point. Dragging a hand through messy blonde locks, he heaved a sigh. "I left because of everything you guys do," he responded, eyes trained once more on the carpet. "The whole 'superior than others' thing, the 'no hearts' thing, the competition between everyone to be the leader when we _all_ know no one can usurp Xemnas, and- there's a lot, okay?"

'Demyx' smirked, looking over to him. "Is that all?"

"No!" the blonde exclaimed, causing the taller boy's grin to grow wider. "The silent rule that everyone is lesser than you, that you can't make friends with anyone outside the group, the sleeping around, the..." he trailed off. He was at the end of his rope, and he had given the other boy exactly what he needed.

"'Sleeping around', huh?" 'Demyx' mused, idly tapping his chin, glancing at the ceiling. Looking back down to the other boy, his grin dropped. "Is it because you saw Axel and me?"

"Not at all," the other managed after a few seconds. The words were slow and even- with an overly obvious effort to keep them straight and unwavering.

"It is." There was no opposition, this time. "You were afraid that the thing you and Axel have is nothing but sex."

"_Had,_ Demyx. _Had_."

"We don't kiss in sex."

The younger boy scoffed. "Yeah- right. He kissed me all the time."

"If you've noticed then you should know what I'm saying."

"It would be more helpful if you could _say_ what you're saying."

_**"Don't tell him, okay?"**_

"I can't."

"Why not?" Silence reigned for a bit, both sitting side by side. The moment should have been intense, and it was, but there was only so much sitting side-by-side could accomplish. Jumping to his feet, 'Roxas' looked the taller boy straight in the eyes, only to exclaim, "Why the hell not?"

_**"A pinky promise? Since when did you make those."**_

"I made a promise."

Slamming his hands beside the older boy's face, 'Roxas' shouted, "To hell with promises! Tell me what you mean or I'll-"

_**"Since now. Promise me."**_

It was the elder's turn, now. Throwing his arms before him, the taller boy shoved 'Roxas' back, cutting his sentence short. Standing, himself, he looked down into the smaller boy's eyes, holding them for what seemed like hours. "Or you'll _what_?" he spat after the silence. "Hit me? Tell on me? _Leave?_"

**Pinky promise. Pinky promise. Stick a needle in my eye. Cross my heart and hope to die. Leave me dying in my bed, leave me wishing I was dead. Pinky promise. Pinky promise...**

After a moment of speechlessness, 'Roxas' spoke up. "I'll out you to the entire school. Demyx Clearwater- gay. Wonder what everyone will-"

A hand whipped around, smashing past the boy's face, cutting him off, once more. "Silence, traitor," he hissed, arm poised mid-air from the assault. Gone was the facade. Gone was the act of feeling and sarcasm. Gone was the smooth water that filled his skin with every subtle lie that slipped from his lips- that he actually cared. All that was left was ice. Dry ice.

_**"Don't break it for anything."**_

That ice, after all, doesn't feel anything. Not heat, not cold... It can only burn. It was a perfect analogy to describe the group, in a way. You can't handle dry ice with your bare hands, after all. No one can. That's why only the others of their group could handle each other.

They're all the same.

'Roxas' never really realized that, and he had melted. He was the kind of person that would rather live with something Fake instead of something Real.

Like off-white walls or a name that doesn't matter.

_**That night, the one we made the promise for walked in.**_

---

Collapsing into his bus seat beside 'Zexion', 'Demyx' lay his head on the boy's shoulder. "I need some help, tonight," he whimpered.

The smaller boy glanced from him, then back to his book. Brushing a lock of hair from its place in front of his eye, he looked over to the younger boy- a year his junior despite how the blonde towered over him. "How much?" he inquired, glancing down the blonde's body as the bus started up.

"Just erase it all."

The smaller boy sighed, looking back down to his book. "Not making this easy, are you?"

"I ran into _him_ today."

Silence.

"Ah..."

No more words were exchanged. There was no need. Like names, idle chit-chat had no use, after all. Even without it the bus still started up, thundering down the hill and away from the school, filling out its duty of taking everyone home. Even without their speech they understood what was going on, what had transgressed into their hap-hazard world of hatred and loneliness.

Half though-out words were not welcome there.

---

There was no preparation, not stretching, and no warning. No foreplay, holding, slow music, or even kissing. There was only their form of forgetting. Sex has that effect on people, after a while.

Their method consisted on either monumental amounts of pleasure or excruciating pain. Either way, their bodies were too tired to support thought after such an action as theirs. Pure movement- no love, affection, or thought necessary. They were not capable of retaining such an emotion for long, being human, after all. It was easy not to believe in love, really, so something like that was easy for everyone. Sex was just a way to forget, and everyone in their group did it.

Some of them required certain positions, though.

'Demyx', for example, found pain only accentuated how bad things were, throwing everything in stark relief.

'Zexion', though, found pleasure couldn't really cover up the things in his life as much as he'd like. The older boy was, in a way, a first choice for the blonde.

That was sex for them. Release. No more, no less.

Blood thundering through veins, leaving the body thrashing in the midst of the burn of flesh on flesh. That's all that existed, wiping everything from their minds.

It was part of how they survived, after all.

---

The next week passed quickly. Without incident. Soon, it was Friday night once more.

"So how was school this week?"

The blonde looked up from his plate, staring at the dark-haired, fair, blue-eyed woman that sat across from him. "It was okay," he mused, pushing a pea across the plate. The china was white.

Off-white.

The woman looked down to his plate, then to him. "You can tell me if you don't like it."

"It's _okay_, Mom."

There was silence for a bit before she spoke up again. "I know you don't like-"

"_It's okay, Mom_," the boy hissed, looking sharply up from his plate to send a look at his mother. He grimaced, indignantly stating, "not everything has to be perfect."

"Don't you _dare_ speak to me like that, Demyx," the woman growled, setting her fork back down on her off-white plate.

"It's not like I hate it or anything."

"It's not like you _care_ or anything," she retorted. The boy had no response to this, and at that moment the phone rang, saving what little pride he had left from responding.

Shooting up from his seat, he made his way to the phone at a brisk walk, desperate to get away from the woman, who sat in her chair just as self-righteous as before. Prideful. Snatching the phone from its base, the blonde pressed the receiver to his ear. "Clearwater residence."

"_Demyx- good afternoon,_" a voice said through the line. The boy froze, body tensing, then loosening, allowing him to relax. "_How've you been_?"

The boy choked, then, feeling eyes on his back. After a minute, he managed a small, "Good."

"_That's... good_," the voice on the other end of the line managed after a bit. "_How's Xion_?" The man's voice gave him away- shaking. Insecure. Scared. Lost.

Still hopelessly in love.

Glancing back to his mom, who was once again facing the other direction, back impeccably straight, the blonde clenched his eyes shut. "Good," he lied. She wasn't good at all. Off-white walls, off-white plates- gone were the days of blue and sunshine. Beaches and tans. His father had inspired all of that, but she hadn't inspired his father.

Love wasn't enough for him.

Regret wasn't enough for her.

He had learned from his mistakes- why couldn't she?

Turning from the woman, the blonde trained his eyes on the phone base.

Off-white. He clenched his eyes shut.

"We're having dinner right now," he managed.

"_Oh... well_..."the man hesitated, and the blonde could hear him torn over the phone. Push or leave it alone? Such a question had been asked before, and when he pushed something went wrong. Would he push, now? "_I'll let you get to that, then. I'll... call back later_." He was leaving it alone. "_Until then, Demyx_."

"Bye." _Dad_.

Setting the phone down, the blonde made his way back to the table. Back to his seat. In front of off-white china, between off-white walls.

All of a sudden, he couldn't put up with it. "Who was that, Demyx?"

"Zexion. Can I go over to his house after dinner?"

"Well, sure, honey, but-" She paused, mid-sentence.

After a minute of waiting, the boy spoke up. "But what, Mom?"

She sighed. "Promise you won't see your father, okay?" She held out her pinky, then.

_**"A pinky promise? Since when did you make those."**_

_**"Since now. Promise me."**_

Taking the pinky in his, the blonde sighed as she began to recite. "Pinky promise. Pinky promise. Stick a needle in my eye. Cross my heart and hope to die. Leave me dying in my bed, leave me wishing I was dead. Pinky promise. Pinky promise- Xion and her son."

**Pinky promise. Pinky promise. Stick a needle in my eye. Cross my heart and hope to die. Leave me dying in my bed, leave me wishing I was dead. Pinky promise. Pinky promise- Axel and his friend.**

Yet another promise he would keep.

---

Pale skin, thrashing, warmth, pleasure... They all made him forget, but this time he didn't feel like getting up afterwards, too caught up in the heat from the smaller boy's body. Without reason, he leaned over to plant a small kiss on the boy's lips. Eyes widened with the implications.

"What are you-" the smaller boy began, though his words were cut short with a pair of lips. Eyes slid shut, and shut they stayed. Meanwhile, two pairs of mouth worked against each other in a feverish heat, knowing the consequences of their actions but not really acknowledging its existence.

There was only pleasure, this time.

No pain.

---

His mother stopped him in the hall when he got home. "You smell like sex."

The boy sniffed. "You smell like Dad."

The woman sighed, leaning up against one off-white wall. "Where is my son? Where is my Demyx?"

"He died when you kicked Dad out."

"That was five years ago, Demyx."

"And you still can't forgive him?"

"He hurt me- it couldn't be avoided."

"Then why did you see him?"

She let him pass, then.

---

Monday happened. It did not come, it happened.

Axel had told Roxas.

Why were pinky-promises so one-sided?

---

He was back again that weekend. The human race was confusing him too much at that point.

Axel and Roxas were in love, but they wouldn't accept it. His mom, Xion, and dad, Luxord, were still seeing each other without telling him, even sleeping with each other.

Why is it that promises only bound Demyx?

Demyx was questioning whether or not names had anything to do with life.

That's why Demyx was Demyx, Roxas was Roxas, Axel was Axel, Zexion was Zexion... an ongoing list.

That night, Demyx said Zexion's name for the first time in his life.

The first name he'd said in five years.

---

End Note: Sorry the end was so crappy. I had to finish this up quick to make the post date and I just wasn't feeling it at the end. I kind of have a cold right now and I'm trying to get my voice in shape for tomorrow's Choir Concert so... yeah. Things have been weird. With Christmas coming up and stuff, things have been hectic. Also- those who've read 'Return', know that I love you guys. If you haven't, you should read it. Higher quality than this story, even though it's my first story over 20k words.

To clear things up, here you go. The story in a nutshell.

The Parents - Demyx's dad cheated on his mom five years before the story and she threw him out because of it. Unfortunately she still loved the man and two years after throwing him out they began seeing each other behind Demyx's back. They did this because they didn't want to get his hopes up that they might be getting back together. Demyx's dad is Luxord and his mom is Xion. Luxord used to take them to the beach every year.

Bold conversations - Axel and Demyx slept together even though Axel was dating Roxas. This is due to the fact that Axel was feeling violent and didn't want Roxas to see that side of him, yet. Unfortunately, Roxas walked in on them and the conversations in bold are between Demyx and Axel before they did it and Roxas caught them.

Kissing - In some cultures it is considered that the breath is one's soul, so kissing is seen as sharing souls. This is the kind of culture their group is loosely based upon. Because of this, they don't kiss anyone unless they're in love with them to prevent any repercussions. Roxas didn't understand this, as is evident between the dialogue exchanged between him and Demyx.

Pink Promise Rhyme – This is something I did as a kid. It was really popular in elementary school. At the end of the promise you say the name of the person who wants the promise, then the name of the person being bound by the promise. This is the only form of the rhyme that only binds one person.

Review?

Besieged Infection


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